


Day 25: Christmas Morning ft. Destiel

by Pippiuscattius



Series: Pippi's Holiday Shipping Challenge [25]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 25 Day Holiday OTP Challenge, And to everyone who reads it as well, Angelic Grace, Background Sam/Gabriel - Freeform, Boys Kissing, Castiel's Grace, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester's Freckles, Destiel - Freeform, Early Mornings, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gift Exchange, JUST SO MUCH FREAKIN' FLUFF Y'ALL, Kissing, M/M, Merry Christmas, Mistletoe, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, My self-indulgent Christmas fic, Romantic Fluff, Sabriel - Freeform, Shmoop, Sleepy Cuddles, This is legit my Christmas gift to myself, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 17:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippiuscattius/pseuds/Pippiuscattius
Summary: It's Christmas morning, and Castiel is ready to wake Dean up bright and early for the festivities. Though the angel is convinced to stay in bed to remain snuggled up for a little while longer , the two eventually make their way further into the bunker to indulge in the fluffiest of Christmas morning festivities.(Part of my 25 Day Holiday OTP challenge. Will feature multiple ships from multiple fandoms. These will all be quickly-written, silly drabbles so please don't judge them too harshly. UwU)





	Day 25: Christmas Morning ft. Destiel

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh, Destiel, my truest, deepest OTP. It keeps my face clear, ensures my crops are watered, sustains my nonexistent ginger soul, and is one of my most consistent sources of happiness in this cruel journey we call life. It was destined to end with this.
> 
> I may have gone just a biiiiit overboard with the fluff in this one, but screw it, it's Christmas. I would actually recommend that you read my previous entry in this series to understand some of the details in this, but you don't have to if you'd rather not. UwU

Castiel didn’t think he would ever tire of watching Dean sleep. That would have sounded much creepier if he’d said it mere months ago, before the two of them had finally, _finally_ , admitted their feelings for each other. That turned out to be one of the best decisions either of them had ever made.

Although he didn’t sleep, Castiel could enjoy the comforts of laying in a bed at night. So long as he opened up his vessel to the sensations, it was pleasantly cozy and warm. Even better than that, it was the perfect opportunity to stay close to Dean.

Unlike Castiel, Dean did require sleep to function, so the angel let him slumber peacefully. More often than not, Castiel would hold Dean close or vice versa to ease him into the realm of sleep, and while Castiel didn’t dream, he was calmed enough to meditate and be left to his thoughts. It was like his own version of dreaming, except that he was still plenty aware of his surroundings; all the better for him to maintain the closeness he sought with Dean.

Sleeping in was a luxury Dean and Castiel could rarely afford, but with the relative peace of the supernatural world that December, they’d taken many a morning to just lay in bed together. Dean’s sleep had been fragile before Castiel started joining him every night and the angel still tended to treat it as such. Castiel valued Dean’s health and well-being, and Dean was always at his healthiest and best after he’d gotten a full night’s sleep. Ordinarily, Castiel would let him stay asleep for as long as possible in the mornings, watching over him to ensure his peace wasn’t disturbed.

On this particular morning, however, Castiel figured he had to make an exception.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered right in the slumbering hunter’s ear. “You need to wake up.”

Dean’s sleepy expression scrunched up and he grunted, turning away from Castiel and burying his face into his pillow. It appeared that this was going to be one of _those_ mornings, the ones where Dean continually snoozed the alarms set on his phone and refused to heed Castiel’s advisories to get out of bed.

At least Castiel had leaped the hurdle of getting Dean awake; now came the obstacle of how to get Dean fully out of bed.

Shuffling over so he could resume speaking into Dean’s ear, Castiel murmured, “Do you know what day it is?”

“Mmmmmm no,” Dean hummed into his pillow, still refusing to show his face.

“It’s the twenty-fifth of December,” Castiel informed him. “Christmas day. You said you wanted me to wake you up earlier than usual to get a head start on the festivities.”

That made Dean finally shift around and blink up at Castiel through the darkness of his bedroom. “What time is it?”

“It’s five thirty.”

“In the morning?” Dean hissed out, blindly reaching towards his bedside table to retrieve his phone. One tap on its surface revealed that Castiel was telling the truth; though he was momentarily blinded by the screen’s light, the blinking numbers 5:31 stared back at him.

“I didn’t mean _this_ early,” Dean grunted out, dropping his phone back on the table and faceplanting into his pillow.

Realizing his mistake, Castiel shrank away somewhat in shame. “I…apologize, Dean. I wasn’t sure how early you meant…”

“S’alright.” Though he still sounded half-asleep, a note of sweetness had crept into his voice. He flipped over so that he was facing Castiel. Noticing how upset the angel looked at his mistake, Dean soothed, “There’s nothin’ I’d rather wake up to in this world more than you, even if it’s at five thirty in the morning.”

Blue eyes flitted back up to meet Dean’s. Upon seeing the earnesty on Dean’s face, Castiel relaxed and let his mouth curve into a shy smile. “We can sleep in later, if you would like,” the angel offered.

Dean didn’t have an immediate answer, smiling affectionately at Castiel. Even in the darkness, his green eyes seemed to sparkle when he looked at the angel. “To hell with it,” Dean decided. “It’s Christmas.”

His mind made up, Dean bridged the tiny gap between them, pressing a gentle kiss to Castiel’s lips. Humming a contented sigh, Castiel pressed back, giving Dean all the tenderness he could in just one kiss.

Smoothly pulling away, Dean couldn’t keep the dopey smirk off his face. “We don’t have to sleep, but how’s about we just stay in bed for a few more hours?”

“I would enjoy that,” Castiel sighed out, giving in to the meditative haze lingering in his grace. Eyes fluttering closed, the angel nuzzled his way under Dean’s pliant arm, settling there against his side. He languidly shuffled even closer, snuggling and tucking himself further into Dean’s chest. Even when he was in a comfortable position, he didn’t stop lovingly rubbing his cheek into the fabric of Dean’s pajama shirt.

In terms of cuddling with Castiel, this was par for the course. Dean had long since adjusted to his angel’s habit of nuzzling as much as he physically could; the guy was practically a clingy cat when in a cuddly mood. Whether the excessive nuzzling was a universal angel thing or just a Castiel thing, Dean didn’t mind at all, happy to soak up all the affection Castiel offered him like a touch-starved sponge.

They occupied their “few more hours” by simply keeping each other company. Nothing ever escalated too far, and this Christmas morning, it didn’t need to. Fervent cuddles and fond kisses were all they needed. Mornings like this were Castiel’s favorite, the perfect way to take time to just bask in the fact that he at last had his human and his human had him.

Once he’d tired of merely cuddling, Castiel occupied himself with one of his favorite games for heartfelt mornings such as this: “try to count every last freckle on Dean’s face.” This was difficult enough as it was, especially since Castiel refused to cheat by using his grace to catalogue each sunspot on his hunter’s face. This particular morning, he upped the difficulty by playing another version of the game: “try to count every last freckle on Dean’s face via kissing them.” This turned out just as sickeningly sweet as it sounded.

The hunter couldn’t help but snicker as Castiel peppered every last inch of his face with light kisses (so he was ticklish, sue him), but Dean was happy to play along. The hunter took every little sweet gesture from Castiel that he could. In all his life, he’d never had a relationship like this, one that ran so deep and made him feel so irresistibly _in love_ that he willingly and enthusiastically participated in all the shmoopy stuff he’d sworn he never would. He didn’t know how he’d managed to repress and deny his feelings for Castiel for so long now that he had this.

“One hundred and ninety-seven,” Castiel announced his answer, ceasing his string of smooches.

“Really?” Dean grunted. “That’s two more than last time.”

“Perhaps you have gained two more,” Castiel considered. “Or I miscounted. It’s difficult to say.”

“I haven’t been out in the sun much lately.” The hunter prodded curiously at his own cheek. “But ya know, they say every freckle’s a kiss from an angel.”

Frowning, Castiel was quick to refute the sentiment. “That is surely a myth. If that were the case, I would have doubled the number of freckles on your face by now.”

“It’s just a cutesy thing people say,” Dean dismissed, smiling warmly and easing forward to nuzzle Castiel’s nose with his own. “Most people don’t have a real angel to test it out. I got real lucky, though.”

Humming serenely, Castiel nudged his nose back against Dean’s. “I consider myself exceedingly lucky to have you as a romantic partner as well.”

“You’re getting better at sweet talk,” Dean praised, turning his head so Castiel could softly lay against his freckled cheek.

By the time their few hours had passed, Dean had nearly drifted back off to dreamland. Castiel had him in a loose honeymoon hug, the angel resting his head atop Dean’s to surround him where the blankets couldn’t. A long, warm kiss pressed to Dean’s forehead brought him stirring back to full wakefulness, and although he was first irritated by it, that didn’t last long.

“Dean,” Castiel quietly murmured. “It’s eight thirty.”

Taking a deep breath and untangling himself from Castiel, Dean forced himself to sit up. “That’s early enough.” Yawning into the back of his fist, he swung out of bed, stumbling towards his dresser and wrenching open its top drawer.

Meanwhile, Castiel had risen up and out of bed with ease, not bogged down by the human burden of early morning tiredness. He had on a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants he’d borrowed from Dean for PJs, but now that he was up and about, he sought the comforting layer of his ever-present trench coat.

Dean was well aware of what Castiel wanted; it was routine for him to immediately return the coat to Castiel each and every morning. “Here you go, angel,” Dean offered, unfolding the coat from its resting place in the dresser drawer and holding it out for Castiel.

Gratefully taking the trench coat, Castiel slipped it on and bundled himself in its comforting weight. It was essentially a security blanket that he could take with him wherever he went, and Dean couldn’t help but find its constant presence on his angel endearing.

“Shall we begin with the Christmas festivities?” Castiel asked, peering towards Dean as the hunter retrieved his green overcoat from the dresser.

“Yeah,” Dean tersely replied, hurriedly pulling his coat over his shoulders; he’d need it with how much colder the bunker was in winter.

The hallways were quiet that morning aside from Dean and Castiel emerging from their room. One glance towards Sam’s bedroom revealed that he was still inside, door closed and light out. It was unusual for the younger Winchester to sleep in this late, but Dean thought little of it. Maybe Sammy just wanted to get some extra rest for the holidays.

Everything looked as it always did while Dean and Castiel walked towards the center of the bunker. They’d put up some Christmas decorations, sure, but the bunker’s size made it difficult to fill every cranny with festive décor.

The war room was more decked out for Christmas, with shiny garlands draped over the stairway and railings and lights wrapped around the pillars supporting the second level. Dean had taken his chance to be a cheeky bastard and strung up a sprig of mistletoe in the doorway leading to the library. Sam had stubbornly insisted on taking the long way into the library since it had been put up, just to avoid any chance awkward encounters.

Dean, on the other hand, took every last chance he could to get himself and Castiel under the mistletoe. This trip was no exception, Dean nonchalantly sidling closer to Castiel as they passed through the doorway. Taking his chance, he expertly cupped Castiel’s cheek and captured the angel in a smooch mid-step. He’d been practicing this maneuver all December, and he smirked against Castiel’s lips when he realized how good he’d gotten at it.

Humming a muffled laugh, Castiel kissed Dean back, slow and sweet. He’d gotten used to Dean’s surprise smooches whenever they passed through here, but this time the angel had been so focused on getting to the festivities that he’d nearly forgotten. Regardless, a surprise was a surprise, and he would not pass up a pleasant one such as this.

They only spent a minute locked together under the mistletoe, which wasn’t bad at all compared to their other encounters throughout the month. Worst among those was the incident in which Sam stumbled upon them in the middle of a particularly heated moment. The moose had been so traumatized that he sat both of them down afterwards to lecture them on how the mistletoe tradition called for “just kissing, not obscenely making out in the middle of the bunker.” Gabriel had gotten a good laugh out of that one.

This time, however, there was no hurry. Their kisses were lazy and sleepy, but adoring all the same. Sam couldn’t possibly fuss at them if he happened to wake up and find them.

Even when he broke the kiss, Dean kept holding onto Castiel, pressing their faces close together. The hunter ran a lazy thumb over Castiel’s cheek, marveling in the fact that he had this, that _they_ had this.

“I thought we came out here to participate in Christmas festivities,” Castiel observed, leaning into Dean’s hand.

“Mistletoe _is_ a Christmas festivity, Cas,” Dean corrected, smiling widely.

Once they’d managed to fully break apart, they ascended the steps into the library. Alongside the war room, the library was the other most decorated area in the bunker. Red bows were tied around the perimeter of each table and a humble wreath was mounted to one of the center pillars. Lights and garlands were strung up along the walls and shelves as well, and the centerpiece was, of course, the Christmas tree. Standing proudly in one of the corners, it boasted bright, yellow lights, red, silver, and gold ornaments, and a miniaturized figurine of Castiel on top that Gabriel had whipped up.

Castiel had been resistant to have his image placed on top of the tree, but everyone else thought it was too hilarious to pass up so he eventually begrudgingly allowed it.

Presents of various shapes and sizes were piled around the base of the tree. A small bookshelf neither Dean nor Castiel recalled seeing yesterday was pushed behind the tree, but the bow on top of it alerted them that it was just another gift. A torn section of wrapping paper sat on the floor, half-hidden beneath a table. Dean frowned and swiped up the discarded silver paper.

“Looks like someone tore into their present a little early,” Dean commented as he looked down at the paper in disapproval.

Tilting his head at the untouched presents still under the tree, Castiel checked, “I’m assuming we should wait to open gifts until Sam and Gabriel appear?”

“That’s the idea,” Dean confirmed, setting the wrapping paper on the nearest table and turning his head towards the doorway. “Speak of the devils.”

The sound of hushed chatting from two people floated into the library from the war room. A signature snicker confirmed that one of them was Gabriel, and the patient sigh that followed confirmed the other was Sam. Both stepped into view through the doorway, Sam still in pajamas and looking an awful lot like he just woke up. Oddly enough, Gabriel’s hair was tousled and sticking up in multiple directions like he’d been in a bed as well. Must’ve been trying a new hairstyle with his trickster powers or something…

Far more troubling than any failed hairstyle attempted by Gabriel, Sam was heading right for the doorway with the mistletoe. Gabriel was right on his heels, eyeing the dangling green leaves with mischievous eyes. It looked like Sam’s monthlong efforts to avoid unnecessary smooches were about to come undone in one fell swoop.

Sure enough, Gabriel literally leapt and captured Sam’s lips with his own. Dean was ready to watch it like a slow-motion train wreck, but for reasons that his brain didn’t even want to contemplate, Sam’s astonishment melted and he actually kissed Gabriel _back_.

Staring incredulously at the sight, Dean wrenched his eyes away and focused on the glittering lights adorning the Christmas tree. Castiel was standing in front of the tree, squinting in confusion at the spectacle taking place in the doorway.

Thankfully for Dean’s sanity, Sam and Gabriel kept it brief and continued walking all the way into the library as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Traces of a blush were slowly fading from Sam’s face, and he refused to meet Dean’s questioning stare.

Seeing as his brother wasn’t going to provide any answers, Dean turned his demanding gaze to Gabriel.

The archangel raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Deciding right then that he didn’t really want any answers, Dean dropped the subject before it could even be brought up. “You guys here for presents?” he settled on asking.

“Hell yeah we are!” Gabriel cheered, punching the air. “I told Samsquatch here that you two lovebirds were awake and got him out of bed before you could start opening presents without us.”

Barking an unamused laugh, Dean picked up the torn wrapping paper from the table. “Really now? You were worried about _us_ opening presents ahead of schedule?”

“That was mine,” Gabriel proudly owned up to it, tugging on the plaid shirt he was wearing. Elbowing Sam, he asked him, “Looks awfully handsome on me, eh Sammich?”

Though no words left Sam’s mouth, the blush that returned to his face said enough. Smirking, Gabriel strolled over beside Castiel, expectantly eyeing the presents.

“Now that we are all here…” Castiel hesitantly began, “It is acceptable to open our gifts, correct?”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean approved. “Go for it.”

Everyone dug into the pile of presents following Dean’s permission. One by one, they took turns opening a present at a time, sitting on the library floor around the glimmering tree.

Aside from the plaid that Sam had apparently given him, Gabriel got a small jar of sparkling yellow fairy dust that his brother delivered straight from Avalon (“Just imagine the pranks I can pull with this!” Gabriel plotted. “You have no idea how much power you’ve given me, Cassie.”) Dean had wrapped up a box with a few jawbreakers for the archangel, and he also sort of piggybacked on Sam’s offer to let Gabriel live in the bunker since he had been the one to give the go-ahead for that matter.

It turned out that the odd bookshelf was a gift to Sam from Gabriel, which fit the bill for his bookworm personality. It was apparently some special ancient bookshelf infused with Aphrodite magic or something along those lines; Dean wasn’t really paying attention to his brother’s explanation. Castiel had given Sam a box full of the rarer spell ingredients he’d been running low on; evidently the angel had been taking trips around the globe to gather each item. Then there was Dean’s present to his brother, which he’d agonized over for days before deciding to finally cave in and give it. It was a signed slip of paper giving Sam express permission to, if he so pleased, introduce a dog into the bunker.

For the first Christmas in years, Sam’s eyes lit up the same way they did when he was a kid opening his presents. “Dean, no… _seriously_?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed out. “Since we’re gonna have Gabriel around, he can look after it when we’re on a case. I’ll pay the adoption fees and all, since it’s my gift…”

Right then, Sam gave Dean an honest-to-god hug. Throughout the rest of the morning, Sam kept looking down at the piece of paper and breaking out into a wonderful smile. That spark of childish excitement his gift had managed to re-ignite in Sam made it all worth the while for Dean.

Then came Dean’s gifts. He’d genuinely expected a gag gift or another prank from Gabriel, but the archangel actually pulled through with a pretty awesome present: a Led Zeppelin poster for his room. He hadn’t even thought about it before, but a little Zeppelin flair was just what his bedroom had been missing. Sam had gone all-out and ordered the most extensive car repair kit he could find to finally put Dean’s complaints about his mismatched, insufficient tools to rest. Finally, Baby would get the high-class treatment she deserved.

Watching Castiel opening his presents was easily the most amusing part of the entire gift exchange. The angel was meticulous about how he got through the layer of wrapping paper, breaking the seal of each piece of tape to carefully unfold his gift and leave its papery shell intact. His brother had wrapped up a long-lost Dropa stone for using the stars to find certain locations. Reportedly, Castiel had once fruitlessly sought this treasure in the hopes that it would help pinpoint the locations of other useful earthly artifacts. Sam gave Castiel a soft, life-size plushie of a smoky gray cat. The angel had voiced a wish to introduce a feline into the bunker some weeks ago, but with Dean’s cat allergies, that was out of the question. Hugging the stuffed cat as though it were real, Castiel was obviously content to have an equivalent to the pet he wished he could have.

“Hold on, Cassie!” Gabriel excitedly perked up. “I can make this even better!”

With a signature snap of his fingers, Gabriel sent a pulse of his grace flowing through the stitched animal. In a literal flash, the cat began to move as though it were alive, peering up at Castiel and mirroring his famous head tilt.

Now even more enamored with his gift, Castiel held his cat close in his arms and nuzzled the top of its head.

Eyes snapping up as something occurred to him, Castiel looked at Dean with pleading eyes. “We can keep it, can’t we?”

Though he eyed the animated plush warily, Dean couldn’t possibly say no to that face. “Long as I’m not allergic to it…yeah.”

“It’s made of hypoallergenic material,” Sam helpfully added. “So you’ll probably be fine.”

Now that he had Dean’s approval, Castiel grinned and went back to petting his new feline, which curled up in his lap and arched its back into his hand with each stroke.

Only two presents remained underneath the tree, one from Castiel to Dean and the other from Dean to Castiel. The angel decided to go first, mostly because Dean wouldn’t stop anxiously eyeing the large box addressed to Castiel.

The box was wrapped in sky blue paper with a silver bow. Even with his angelic strength, Castiel could tell that it was heavy, and because of that he ended up just dragging it out from under the tree and opening it on the floor. After he’d gingerly pulled back the first layer of wrapping paper, the angel’s eyes went wide.

It was a beekeeping box, complete with the panels of honeycomb and a book on how to begin beekeeping. The angel was speechless. It was obvious he had an affinity for bees, and he’d confided in Dean that he would love to look after a hive of his own, but he’d never thought it could actually happen.

“I…don’t know much about bees,” Dean piped up, scooting across the floor to join Castiel beside his present. “I thought about getting one of those veiled hats, but you commune so well with bees, I figured you wouldn’t need one. We can set it up out back, I know the perfect spot. And we can have fresh honey in the bunker-”

The hunter’s rambling was silenced by a sweet press of lips against his own. Closing his eyes and accepting Castiel’s heartfelt thank you, Dean pressed his forehead against his angel’s. This gift had turned out even better than he’d anticipated.

Somewhere in the middle of Castiel opening his own present, Gabriel had gotten bored and materialized a pair of antlers on top of Sam’s head. Currently, Sam was chasing the trickster around the bunker, trying to get him to reverse the magic. The plush cat had chased after them as well, sliding across the floor on its floppy, stuffed legs. That left Dean and Castiel all to themselves with just one final present.

Castiel’s gift to Dean was small, narrow, and rectangular, neatly covered in bright green paper. Dean held it up and lightly shook it to get an idea of what could be inside, but Castiel was quick to reach out and still his arm. Whatever was in there must have been at least somewhat fragile; what little Dean had gotten to hear when he shook the box sounded like some kind of metallic chain rattling about.

Cautiously tearing away the wrapping paper, Dean squinted at what it revealed. It looked like a carboard jewelry box, with silvery swirls carved into the top. He suspected it was a reused box, and whatever was actually inside hadn’t originally been in it.

Popping off the lid of the box and peeking inside, Dean had to stare for a few seconds at what was nestled in the folds of tissue paper within the box. It looked like a necklace with a beaded metal chain. A pendant was strung on it, a vial with an intricate lid and bottom that held a glowing blue substance like…glowstick juice? Where had he seen this before?

It hit him then like a sack of bricks. This was angel’s grace.

“Cas…” Dean breathed out, slowly looking up to face the angel. “This…please, tell me you didn’t steal an angel’s grace for me.”

The angel’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “No, I would never do that unless absolutely necessary,” Castiel assured, nodding to the necklace. “That is from my own grace.”

Eyes widening in shock, Dean glanced frantically between the necklace and the angel in front of him. “Cas, no! You already lost your grace once, you need it back!”

“I still have my grace.” Castiel put a soothing hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Contained within that vial is only a tiny snippet of my grace. Gabriel assisted me in extracting it. I assure you, it was a painless process.”

“But…but Cas, you can’t just _give_ that to me. I mean…you need every bit of strength you can get. You can’t afford to waste your grace on me…”

Smiling sadly at Dean’s words, Castiel let his hand slide down so that it covered Dean’s where it rested on the floor. “Any grace given to you is not wasted. Giving up this small portion of my own grace was practically nothing; the rest of my grace has already restored itself to its original full shape and luster since I removed some for your gift.”

Placated for the moment, Dean swallowed and looked back at the necklace. Emotion welled up in his chest as he stared at the glowing, faintly twisting blue mist within the pendent. This was literally a physical piece of Castiel that the angel was offering to him.

Since Dean was gaping at his present and frozen by overwhelming emotion, Castiel reached into the box and pulled out the necklace, slipping it around Dean’s neck and securely clasping it at the back. That was enough to pull Dean out of his trance, and he ever so cautiously reached for the pendent against his chest and cradled it in his fingertips.

“I know that I can’t be with you all the time,” Castiel felt the need to explain his reason for the gift. “You go on hunts, and I am not always along with you. I have business of my own to attend to at times as well, and each and every time we are separated, I fret over your safety.” Gently reaching out to cover Dean’s fingers with his own where they held the pendent, Castiel procured his warmest smile. “This way, I can always be with you. I believe that will put both of us far more at ease.”

Understanding settled onto Dean’s features. This gift was so much more than just a necklace; it was a gesture, a symbol of the bond that they shared. Right then and there, Dean knew he would never take it off unless he had to.

“Cas, I…” Words didn’t seem enough to show what this meant to Dean. “I don’t know what to say, I…”

A finger settled over Dean’s lips, gently silencing him. “You don’t have to say anything, Dean. I can see the way your soul is lighting up, and that tells me all I need to know.”

Relaxing, Dean reflexively smiled and pressed a kiss to the finger in front of his mouth. It was just too tempting not to with it being right in front of him.

Slowly withdrawing his finger, Castiel flushed pink and smiled shyly. When Dean leaned in to kiss that shy smile, Castiel met him halfway, pouring every ounce of love he could through the glide of his lips.

The two of them stayed like that, holding each other close on the library floor and sharing Christmas kisses. They’d completely forgotten their surroundings until a small “mew!” broke through their passionate moment.

The plush cat had returned from chasing after Sam and Gabriel, nudging against Castiel’s leg in a bid to climb up into his lap. The angel hesitantly pulled away from Dean, scritching under his cat’s chin. A purr rumbled in the stuffing of its throat, and it happily scaled its way into Castiel’s lap and curled up underneath the shelter of his trench coat.

“We may have another companion joining us in our room,” Castiel observed, looking down pointedly at the resting feline.

“Long as I’m not sneezing all night, that’s fine with me,” Dean replied.

With every present opened and Sam and Gabriel occupied elsewhere, there wasn’t much else to do but resume their activities from earlier that morning. The lovestruck pair simultaneously decided to pull each other in for an embrace, Dean rubbing his hands up and down the back of Castiel’s trench coat and Castiel nuzzling his way into the crook of Dean’s neck.

This holiday was everything they’d hoped for and so, so much more.

“Merry Christmas, Cas,” Dean whispered.

“Merry Christmas to you as well, Dean.”

_Thus ends the twenty-fifth, and final, day of Christmas._

**Author's Note:**

> Thus ends Pippi's 25 Day Holiday Shipping Challenge. It's been a wild ride, folks, and I've had the time of my life contributing to my fandoms and ships. Here's to hoping that I can do another challenge like this in the future! Ta-ta for now, peeps!


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